LIONS, TIGERS, AND RUSSIANS - OH MY!

As I type this out, the US just shut out the Swiss and Carmen on Channel 4 just alerted me that one of Sea World's most experienced and veteran trainers - just got killed by a whale. Really? Do things like that ever come as a surprise to anyone who is not insane or oblivious to the way things work? When the burly, 'one with nature' and kaki-ed Aussie with a beard gets his face ripped off by his 500 pound pet BEAR - how shocking is that, really? Especially that it happened while Mr. Burly Man was SLEEPING in the same bed at night with his furry little buddy - who is know his murderer and only surviving family member. Weird, disturbing, gruesome and TOTALLY AVOIDABLE! He is as close to nature now as one can be - dead and in it's stomach. But, who can forget about Mrs. Naive and Dumb Television Reporter, the same one who, during a live broadcast enjoys petting an even more alive and aggressive and large and dangerous lion. That's right a ferocious and un-caged LIVE LION - on set, under the lights, feeling the pressure of live TV and, really, really pissed. The 'interview' would have been fine and dandy if the live lion had not been hungry, agitated by the reporter's perfume and condescending tone, or if it had not been a LIVE LION. Tip # 248 in my "If you want to stay alive," series - Do not sleep with bears, interview lions, dance with snakes (unless you are a middle Eastern toddler), water ski with sharks, play piano with elephants, try out your stand-up routine on a pack of hyenas, race tigers or cheetahs, paint with leopards or giraffes, perform exorcisms on Tasmanian devils, and definitely, most importantly, never should you ever try to engage in 'civilized' people and person strict activities with 'wild' undomesticated and very 'real' live animals - you know, the ones with fangs, claws, huge mass, and an insatiable and natural appetite for blood. If you want to stay alive that is. But, if it's excitement, screaming and yelling, rough and tumble action you're looking for - turn on your TV, around 7:30, to the channel showing the game. The Hockey Game. Yes, we're back to hockey. Earlier today, like I mentioned before, the US narrowly beat Jonas Hiller and the Swiss, in an exciting 2-0 nail-biter to go to the Final Four of the Olympics. A position Canada can get itself into if they come up with a big quarter-final win vs. Alex 'The Jagr Killer' and the rest of his soviet buds. Hockey has to be the most intense sport of the games, quite simply because the format encourages equal opportunity - One solid game, one exceptional goat-tender, one timely goal - and you're in. With the present format, an underdog like the Swiss can sneak into a medal game (though they didn't) - allowing for much intrigue and the mear length of the tournament guarantees even more drama and exciting action. I expect all this and more in tonight's Canada-Russia game - I just hope the outcome is favourable. GO CANADA!

CANADA VS. CANADA VS. RYAN MILLER

What a game last night. It had it all - quick goals, diving blocks, a diving open net goal, big hits, screened shots, no-rebounds, big rebounds, no-touch icing, untimely penalties, unlikely heroes, a goalie on his head, a goalie out of his head, major hustle, pressure-packed sequences, seriously-good chances, a hushed/nervous/and rambunctious red and white crowd and one defining loss - all played at lighting speed and in such patriotic intensity that I was drawn from my seat towards the action like a red and white mosquito to a striped star in net. What I mean is - that white fluffy stuff that's been falling outside non-stop since last night around ten isn't snow. No, it's Canada's tears.


"It was a lot of pressure knowing that everyone around the country was watching this game," he said. "Tomorrow it's going to be a really sad day, but it's what we needed. It's going to be a wake up call." - Thanks, Bob from Newmarket. Really? I thought the wake up call was that already-way-too-close-and-hard-to-watch-narrow-shoot-out-victory against the neutral zone trappings of the always neutral Swiss. I thought we would have been awake and out of bed since then and last night everyone seemed to be mostly alert - accept Babe Ruth - I mean, free-swingin' Marty "Baseball Bat" Brodeur and his called shot heard 'round the world - and a few other slightly bone-headed moves. He seemed so alert that it became a problem. C'mon Marty, you ain't no Ron Hextall and that wasn't no exhibition game against the Springfield Falcons of the AHL. Nope. This was Canada vs. the USA. A game that will be talked about for years to come - and on American sports talk stations I pick up at my home. A fairly big game if you are from either country (the most northern of the south one), are a hockey fan, or both - so yeah, a lot of people were probably watching this one on their TV's, big & small, HD or not, with their friends & family, at a bar, on a scoreboard, while on a chair, standing up or laying down. But how could you fall asleep during that one? Whatever position you were in, if you are Canadian, you were excited, then confused 41 seconds later, then anxious, excited, confused, anxious, super-excited, mad, nervous, happy, and then confused again. Put these emotions on repeat for 2 and some odd hours and you have how most of us probably felt. I'm not so much sad Bob, like I said, I'm mostly confused at this point.

"Canada played hard, they just about had it, but all in all, the Americans, they were the better team," said Brandon Hill of Ladysmith, B.C., who soon led his friends through a "Lu-on-go!" chant. Very true Brandon. Except that by Americans do you mean Brian Rafalski and Ryan Miller? Canada out shot the Americans two to one. And out chanced them by much more. Canada didn't lose. Miller won - with a little help from tricky Martin Brodeur and an amazing empty net goal by Ryan Kessler, who before the game said he, "hates, 'em" [the Canadian team]. Miller is known as a 'hybrid' goalie (stand-up & butterfly tendencies) and the scouting report on him says to go high. He's the kind of goalie that wins games. Steals them on occasion as well. Sure, Canada had a kazillion chances, (especially that 45 second flurry at the end of the game - I thought they had pulled their goalie, but the US was just really tired) yet they couldn't get it up and in. Almost all of their shots were blocked by Miller's chest, or his glove, his pads, stick and even his face once. Their inability to bury the puck testifies to the speed of the game, when even a superstar hockey player doesn't have enough time to do what he wants to and knows he can do - especially when the goalie is a thief from East Lansing, Michigan.

"That's exactly what I'm thinking - that they're going to be out way before they should be out." - Brenda from Moose Jaw. They now have a little longer road to the Gold that starts with Germany and should lead them to the quarters against Russia - a much earlier than anticipated (and wanted) match-up versus the dreaded Reds. Ovechkin, Malkin, Datsuk and the rest of the boys from the Federation are waiting to pounce on and roll over the Canadians. One thing is for sure - Russia always seems loose, determined and focused - three attributes Brodeur (and a few other veteran Canadian players) lacked last night. And you can't win when you're down a man (as Canada was much of the first half of the third period) - even against the Springfield Falcons of the AHL, and especially against a team as equally talented as your own - on the world' biggest hockey stage to boot. The younger guys seemed to step up for Canada, as did the entire US team, which is young. (avg player is 25) Canada has a huge bulls-eye on their back, painted on in red and white and for teams like Germany, Norway and the Swiss, their game against a team like Canada is treated with the same intensity and respect as a gold medal game. Who knows, the defensive minded Germany might get lucky and send Canada home - well, at least they don't have far to go. Perhaps Germany and its famous engineering could engineer an amazingly crazy upset over Canada and put them to bed even earlier than even Brenda thought they would.

"It's obviously disappointing on home soil, but I think in the end, we're going to prevail," said Chris Jackson, a 27-year-old from Toronto who was wearing a Canadian flag as a cape. "I think you're going to see Canada in the gold medal (game)." I sure as shit hope you are right Chris Jackson from Toronto, because so far, these insanely anticipated and enthusiastically produced Vancouver games haven't been as illustrious and lucrative as hoped for - in terms of Canadian medal count, that is. (9 total medals to US's leading 24) So, we're riding on the wave that is the crashing Canadian hockey team. I believe they can overcome this, because I have to and want to - but will they? Team Canada head coach Mike Babcock (the only coach to win a Stanley Cup and World Junior/World Championship/and Olympic Gold) said that he will review the tapes "without emotion" and make a decision on the goal tending situation. I think it's a pretty safe bet that Mr. Luongo will make the next start. Things should be fine, unless they skate into another head-standing, goal-robbing net-minder. Maybe "Lu-on-go!" can be that guy.

CANADA VS. USA

As Katie and I sipped on coffees and sweet-less iced teas respectively, while cruising along slowly down Tecumseh, heading due West towards Campbell - we were listening to, rather grimacing as 97.1 The Ticket's Pat Caputo grumbled into his mic, complaining about, "Hockey Canada's Elitist Attitude." I know, funny, eh? Now, I usually don't mind the Detroit sports talk radio hosts because they usually know more than me, and I understand they have a tough job to do - creating a viable forum for debate regardless of their opinion, keeping the listeners interested even on a slow sports day, and allowing any yahoo to come on-air and challenge them both professionally and personally - but I can't stand it when those in supposed positions of authority, especially those in the public's ear chirp off about issues they don't understand, or even want to understand. Because that idiot from Sandusky is going to believe you. Or that moron in Mount Clemons. Caputo is a Lions and Tiger guy, he doesn't even cover the Wings! I don't pretend to know or care about college football, the economy, International Relations, Taiwanese Hakka mountain songs known as Shan'ge music, croqueting, the art of skiing the moguls, the difference between and the positives for and against fuel-injected or carburation, how the Internet works, how my body works, or why so many privileged Hollywood stars are so darn miserable. Do I? These are things I don't know about, so I'm not going to talk about them like I do. Period. Mr. Caputo was ripping into how important hockey is to Canada (yes, it is), and how superior we think we are as a country in comparison to others (yes, we are) - in hockey that is. In not much else and not as much as we used to be, but we still have the most players (52.3%) in the NHL, and definitely the best. The U.S. is next (total wise) with 22 percent. He also said that the Canadians are taking the upcoming game vs. the U.S. today very personally, pursuing it as if it were some sort of symbolic victory against the hated Americans on a more personal level than just Olympic hockey competition. We sure are. But, we're not the only ones who hate you, Mr. Caputo. Every other country that ever plays against, is in war with, or has relations of any sort with the U.S. wants to win, destroy and embarrass the all-hated and powerful monster that is you. That's just the way it is. He also went on to say, as an unsupported jab I think, that the best player in the world isn't even from Canada, so we have no right to think so highly of ourselves in terms of hockey greatness. He claims Alexander Ovechkin is better than Sidney Crosby. Does he also think that Borje Salming was better than Wayne Gretzky or that Mr. Hockey had no more skill than Mr. Zero, Frank Brimsek? We will delve into the Sid vs. Alex one in a bit. However, he ended his little tirade saying that Canada should destroy the American team tonight (covering up for himself if the U.S. loses), but that if they didn't there would be some serious belly-aching and backlash from his hockey crazy northern neighbours (allowing him an 'in' if they win). So, let's get this straight. He hates that we are so passionate about something we claim to be Canadian and that is. He hates that we hate Americans as do everyone else. And he hates Sidney Crosby though he is the best player in hockey. First off, is it such a crime to be passionate about something - about a sport born on the snow and ice of Eastern Canada and Montreal - and one that many of our 30 million plus hockey crazy citizens enjoy and play on a regular basis? (I wish I had the stats, but I'm going with my gut on this one) Similar to the U.S's obsession with guns and power, political corruptness, sex scandals, disasters, racial divides, crack and ice problems, ignorance towards other countries especially their own and obesity. How many people in the States play or even know what hockey is? Let's ask that guy in Nashville who doesn't go to Predators games and thinks a power play is a new size option at McDonald's or a Penalty Kill the latest Nick Cage movie. "Hockey? You mean that stupid game Canadians and Europeans play on ice with that stick and those skates, chasing a rubber thingy around a net with the red laser shooting out of it." Yeah, an American can't even follow the puck on television, let alone understand or enjoy what is happening in any aspect of the game. I understand why Petty pitted. Because he needed new tires and gas. I know why Kobe didn't get called for travelling. Because he gets superstar treatment. And you don't have to explain to me why you love to bring down a Tiger Woods but can't wait til he comes back. In hockey there are no end zone dances, extravagant half-time shows, explosions, flamboyant and disrespectful felons, I mean players, or half-nude cheerleaders (though a few American teams have pathetically and without success tried the cheerleader gimmick) - so I can see why no one would care. Instead of all the ritz and glitz we we have face-offs, black-eyes, fourth line checkers, broken glass, Europeans, and zambonis. Our most famous players are some kid from Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia and a toothless clown from Russia - who happens to be the closest thing the NHL has to a prima donna, and he seems like a pretty nice guy - with one hell of a shot. The NBA has desperate housewife Eva Longoria and a trashy Kardashian while the NHL has girls next door Elisha Cuthbert and Carrie Underwood. Edmonton has a last placed team that sells out and L.A has a first place team nobody watches. Nobody except Martin Short and Kiefer Sutherland. There is no hockey tradition in America (outside of Minnesota or Boston), just like we could care less about Nascar, guns, dog fighting and Republicans. But that's okay. Some people, because of where they live or how they were raised are just not meant to understand and like things. Geographically, sociologically, and all that. Even some Canadians (gasp!) don't understand and or/like hockey. Probably because their parents didn't understand and or/like hockey. Or they immigrated from another country and have never even seen snow, let alone a back check or a one-timer. Even though I've played pick-up hockey with at least two different Asian guys, some Arabs, a whole bunch of Italians and everyone in between. Just give the cultural mosaic time to melt the pot. Huh? I don't know too many people who play full-contact and uniform, real, bust your teeth out tackle football. (Though in shinny, I knocked some guys screw out of his helmet, bruised my ribs three times, took a puck off the face and got a mean ass blister). We don't play football, drive cars in circles or fight dogs - because it's not as important to us here. (aside from football in the Prairies, but what else are they supposed to do?) It's understandable, anything is. But in the States? It seems if something is not in the States now, it will be soon. They take everything they want to from everyone, so why wouldn't they want one of the strongest and most enduring source of our nation's identity? Despite the no-snow thing (hockey doesn't belong down there anyhow) you would think that in a country obsessed with violence (though their funny 'PCing of everything is well, funny?), sex, drive-by's and the rawness of human life - you would think they would enjoy the near to the edge-ness, psycho-smash-mouth-hustle of pro hockey. Or a brutal open-ice hit, bench clearing brawl or knock-out punch/elbow/or knee on knee - all of which is legal (somehow) on the ice - though you might get a two minute penalty in the 'sin bin.' (American play-by-play talk) Besides the obvious players vs. players altercations, hockey has the fan vs. player, coach vs. coach, coach vs. player, ref vs. everyone, ice vs. head, player vs. trainer and the always coveted and urged goalie vs. goalie. Everything you Americans love about sports: Adversity, pain, excitement, violence, in-your-faceness, underdogs, speed, human error, simple rules (most goals wins, we'll teach you about 'offsides' another day) and tradition - is a part of our game - hockey. Maybe that's what it is. What I've been saying the whole time. Tradition. Or lack thereof in America is why they don't get it. Ignorance is bliss - just keep your mouth shut.

Why Sidney Crosby is better than Alexander Ovechkin:

Sidney Crosby, Age 22, 5th year in NHL
Age Named Captain - 19
Pts. Per Game - 1.4
Stanley Cup Appearances - 2
Stanley Cup Wins - 1

Alexander Ovechkin, 24, 5th year in NHL
Age Named Captain - 24
Pts. Per Game - 1.3
Stanley Cup Appearances - 0
Stanley Cup Wins - 0

Crosby is not only more offensive than the ultra-offensive Ovechkin, but he is a centerman who often plays against the other teams top line - which is why his plus minus isn't as high as Ovechkin's. Ovechkin is a one-way player who often puts himself out of position when going for the big hit and takes long shifts that hurt his team. Ovechkin has also had the luxury of playing with highly skilled players like Alexander Semin and Nicklas Backstrom. Crosby rarely plays with sniper Evgeni Malkin and is often paired with thirty nine year old grinder Bill Guerin.

WHO IS EQUIPPED WITH THE RIGHT EQUIPMENT?

Big debate on Campbell the other day. Me vs. Katie. Men vs. Women. Right vs. Wrong. The Internet vs. The Internet. Brain vs. Heart. Just kidding, but I think I'm right. The argument in question: Are men, on average, better at 'sports' than women? Better meaning, and not relatively speaking, on average, physically, mentally, emotionally - the whole bit, on average. Straight up, who would win a sporting event between the average Joe and the average Josephine, knowing what is known about female/male physiology, psychology, biology - the whole bit, on average. I know, a touchy gender-related issue once again, but one that has to be addressed if we're to move on in a positive direction as a society. Not really, but... SPORT - commonly defined as an organized, competitive, and skillful physical activity requiring commitment and fair play. It is governed by a set of rules or customs. Thanks Wikipedia. I don't know what I'd do without you. Oh yeah, I'd have to go to the library or buy a newspaper or something like that to find my irrelevant info. Whatever it was we did prior to the Net. Watch more TV? Ask my parents? Anyways, I don't consider myself a feminist (are men even allowed in?) on any level or wave or whatever - I'm not even a malenist. I'm just a guy without political ties nor ambitions, or anything against anyone (except stupid and mean people) who happens to have a few semi-strong opinions based on what I've seen, heard, read, experienced and conjured up during my so called life. I wonder if Clair Danes is a feminist. Or even still in showbiz. Okay. So. Let's go down the list of different sports and see who's better and why I think this is so. I am honestly going to be as objective and open-minded as possible here. Remember, I'm no malenist (or am I its only member?), however, it's my blog and I'll write what I please. Also, if women do not, on average play a particular sport mentioned below (eg. football, baseball (not softball), or vice versa they (men or women) will not be immediately disregarded from the conversation, as we live in an equal society - and everyone deserves a chance to play. Even if those in question have no desire or intention ever to do so. Everyone has a choice. Let us begin.

Soccer (or football everywhere else) - Endurance, strong legs and the ability to fall to the ground in agony at the slightest touch are needed to succeed in this fast-paced sport. Sure, a woman is capable of running around a field all day in a pair of cleats, kicking a ball back and forth, but do they have the convincing dramatic and sneaky conniving abilities to draw a penalty like a flip-flopping European midfielder? Yes, they do. And soccer is famously the most popular (and easiest/cheapest to play) game in the world, so women are definitely getting equal opportunity to learn. However, my Mom broke her foot while kicking a semi-deflated beach ball in the backyard, so you never know. Winner - Tie.

Wheel Chair Basketball - This sport requires very strong arms, coordination and some serious balls. Women are, on average, missing two of those criterion's. Winner - Men.

Football - I haven't heard of too many 350 pound women who can run a four second forty. One word: Cheerleaders. Two words: Lingerie Bowl. Three words: Male Chauvinistic Pig. Winner - Men.

Roller Hockey - Men look funny on roller skates and would rather be on roller blades or real ice hockey skates, (In my opinion) or at a roller-rink during the seventies trying to pick up girls in cords sporting a stash. Every cheesy roller hockey movie I've ever seen involved women in pigtails. Wearing colourful tights. Roughing each other up. Winner - Women.

Ice Hockey - Speed, skill, stick-handling, skating and shooting are all key qualities of a stellar hockey player. Checking too, in most leagues. Since strength determines how hard your check and shot is and how fast you'll skate, women draw the short end of the stick here yet again. Check out the Olympics to understand the discrepancy in skill. No offense, just watch. Winner - Men and Megan Agosta.

Handball - Isn't this the sport being played in mobster movies, during the scene when the younger upstart wannabe thug is talking up the older, wiser gangster about who he needs to kill or rob to get into the family? Winner - Al Pacino or Bob De Niro.

Rugby - These guys are even crazier than football players, have less teeth and who knows what goes on at the bottom of those scrums. Women should want not be good at this sport. Winner - Hooligans.

Tennis - Since a powerful serve and shot are key, but can be overcome by quickness, agility and perseverance - this could also go either way. Winner - Tie. Unless Serena's playing and then she'd just beat up her opponent and threaten to kill them.

Beach Soccer - Similar to regular soccer in rules and concept, except it's usually played barefoot, on sand and with a beer in hand. Winner - whoever is closest to the cooler.

Beach Volley–Ball - You need to be tall, quick on your feet, smart and strong. On average, men are taller, stronger and can jump higher than women. (See below) Perhaps women are as smart as men with just as quick of reflexes, but in beach volleyball as opposed to normal volleyball, there are only two players per team - so both competitors have to be well-rounded in every aspect of the game. Winner - Men.

Arena Football - Similar to regular football except it's played in a dome, on a smaller field and features inferior players to that of the NFL and CFL. They are still crazy though and big. And fast. And would squash the average women. Winner - Men.

Motor sports - In all reality, although the word is in the name - should motor sports really be considered a type of sport? I guess there are rules, sweat, grease, laps and winners, so... On average, women are universally considered bad drivers, but in reality they have just as good a chance as men to be good drivers. Winner - Tie.

Motorcycling - See motor sports.

Cycling - Men, on average have bigger, stronger legs and a greater lung capacity (25 % more, on average) than their female counterparts because they are larger specimens, in general. However, women might have the mental toughness it take to get past the wall and will their way to a gutsy victory. Winner - Not Lance Armstrong.

Poker - Even though it has rules, involves tapping, folding and stacking chips, and is shown on sports networks - poker is not a sport. Winners - The Casinos. Losers - Fat people with a gambling problem, no jobs and/or lives.

Pool - See poker. Or go the arcade and play both. Winner - An Asian women with a leather glove and a pocket full of change.

Running - Endurance, stamina, strong legs and mental toughness. Depending on whether or not it's a sprint or longer race - anyone can run. However, men can run faster and for longer periods of time - faster. See below. Winner - Men.

Table Tennis (or Ping Pong)- Quickness, hand-eye co-ordination, cat-like reflexes, and killer timing are all key components to this Asian-favouring sport (In my opinion). Since superior strength is not needed to smack the little plastic ball with the little wooden paddle, hard across the little green table it's fair game for both genders. Although, a taller person would have a better angle when smashing the little white ball back into your face. Winner - Tie.

Fencing - Since the combatants don't actually try to kill each other, (it's more like a poking motion)and they wear full protective face masks and body armour - it's a duel to the finish. Winner - Tie.

Swimming - Broad shoulders, strong legs for kicking and sound breathing techniques are a must. As is a large lung capacity and the ability to withstand high amounts of chlorine intake. Winner - Michael Phelps.

Triathlon - See swimming, cycling and running.

Rowing - Strong shoulders, lung capacity and the ability to stay seated for long periods of time. Winner - Men.

Boxing - Power, foot work, endurance and the ability to take punches straight to the face without falling down or getting knocked out. I've never seen Laila Ali bite an opponents ear off. Winner - Men, because they are naturally more violent and aggressive (In my opinion).

Weight Lifting - See below. Winner - Men.

Judo/Kickboxing/Taekwondo/Karate/Any Martial Arts - Flexibility, balance and power are all needed, no matter what colour belt you wear. A good student will show superior calmness, a spiritual side and sneaky tendencies. Since a kick to the nuts is acceptable and the smaller and quicker you are the better...Winner - Women and Ninjas

Snowboarding - Patience, leg strength, good balance and a love for snow, ice, half-pipes, ollies, fakies and McTwists. Women have just as good a chance to be good at snowboarding except no one can get as much air as Shaun White. Winner - The Flying Tomatoe's Personal Red-Bull Funded Half-pipe in Colorado.

Power Boating - Again, is this a sport? Perhaps those super fast and easily disintegratable boats (hydroplaning) that glide across the river at ridiculous speeds are involved in some sort of sport - but a leisurely tour on the lake pulling your kids by a rope and a tube does not qualify. Winner - Tie.

Jet Skiing/Water skiing/any water and boat sport - See power boating.

Water Polo - Strong shoulders, arms and legs are a must for this aquatic version of hockey hand-ball. The ability to stay underwater for large amounts of time are also an asset. Sorry girls, but any sport requiring more strength, larger lung capacity and overall toughness has to be favourable for men. Winner - Men.

Basketball - Running, jumping, shooting and passing. Good court vision, hand-eye co-ordination and reflexes are needed to succeed in this grueling cardio-heavy sport. Take a look at the difference in attendance between WNBA and the real NBA to understand. See avg. heights below. Winner - Men.

Volley-Ball - Different than beach volleyball in that it is not played on sand. And there are six players as opposed to two. Power, jumping ability, height and hand eye coordination are needed to spike, dig, bump, volley and block properly. However, the soft touch of a woman and quick feet could make her the ideal setter. Winner - Men.

Figure Skating - Good skating ability, strong legs, grace, poise and flexibility. In the pairs competition it is a tie, but overall, a woman is most likely to flourish as a figure skater. However, only a handful of women have even attempted a quadruple (toe loop, salchow, axel)jump in competition, whereas men perform them regularly. Winner - Tie.

Bowling - Balance, good eye sight, arm, leg and wrist strength, and funny-looking bowling shoes. Though the ball is heavy, they come in different sizes and weight, so it should be equal. Winner - Tie.

Body Boarding - See surfing (below)

Gymnastics - Depending on the event (eg. rings, balance beam, uneven bars) entire body strength and conditioning are very key to success. However, the more popular events (eg. the pommel horse, floor exercise) flexibility, grace, co-ordination and poise are the most sought after qualities. The best gymnasts seem to be the smallest and women on avg. are smaller than men. Winner - Mary Lou Retton.

Equestrian Sports - Balance, small stature, a tight grip and a love of animals. Winner - Women and Jockeys.

Baseball - This game has a lot of rules. Good ball players have excellent hand-eye coordination, a strong arm (Johnny Damon excluded), good reflexes and adaptable team-work skills. Being able to endure a long, boring season is also a must. Women just aren't, on average, as willing to play or sit through a three and a half hour pitchers duel. Winner - Men.

Softball - Softball. The real softball played mostly by women, where the pitcher hurls the ball underhand at speeds upwards of seventy miles per hour. Beer leagues and the batting cages behind Charlies don't count, so women win. Winner - Jennie Finch.

Surfing - Some gnarly balance, agility, flexibility and some major kahunas are a must if you're to hang some serious ten. To catch the perfect wave, you must be willing to sacrifice your body if and when you crash hard and head first on some coral reef or get attacked by a shark. Winners - Keanu Reeves, Kelly Slater and that girl surfer who got her arm torn off by a fifteen foot Tiger Shark off the coast of Kauai, Hawaii.

The "See Belows." (These are the best of the best, but relatively speaking...)

Fastest 100 meter time ever recorded by a man - 9.58 s (Bolt)
Fastest 100 meter time ever recorded by a woman - 10.49 s (Joyner)

Avg. vertical jump by a man - 22.1 inches (according to jumpshigher.com)
Avg. vertical jump by a woman - 14.1 inches (according to jumpshigher.com)

Most weight ever dead-lifted by a man - 581 pounds. (Hossein Reza Zadeh, Clean & Jerk)
Most weight ever dead-lifted by a woman - 412 pounds. (Jang Miran, Clean & Jerk)

Fastest Boston Marathon time ever recorded by a man - 2:07:14 (Robert K. Cheruiyot, Kenya)
Fastest Boston Marathon time ever recorded by a woman - 2:20:43 (Margaret Okayo, Kenya)

Fastest Boston Marathon time ever recorded in men's wheelchair - 1:18:27 (Ernst Van Dyk, South Africa)
Fastest Boston Marathon time ever recorded in women's wheelchair - 1:34:22 (Jean Driscoll, United States)

Fastest Pitch ever recorded by a man - 104.8 mph (Joel Zumya, Detroit Tigers)
Fastest Pitch ever recorded by a woman - 84 mph (Ila Borders, who played in the independent Northern League in the late 90's)

Avg. height of a man in N.A - 5 feet 9.1 inches
Avg. height of a woman in N.A. - 5 feet 3.8 inches

Avg. weight of a man in N.A - 180 pounds
Avg. weight of a woman in N.A - 152 pounds

Furthest long jump recorded by a man - 8.95 m
Furthest long jump recorded by a woman - 7.52 m

* I'm sure there are some 'sports' I missed (is dancing or dodge ball a sport?) Is being a ballerina a sport? Because if it is then women get my vote for that one. Even if a man's execution of his entrechats and pirouetting are flawlessly right - he just doesn't look right doing it. The tights are too tight, the moves too unnatural and the way it makes me feel is definitely not cool. Anyways, also, I know I didn't touch on all the female/male comparisons and records but even I, a man with no job, vehicle or phone - have only so little time. Maybe, I just wasted a day and a half of my life having produced nothing more than a blob of sexist and idiotic time warp mumbo jumbo. Or maybe I just made the world a little safer.

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20 a's for 20 q's

Hello out there and beyond what is out there and beyond what I see and what I've seen and heard is out there from television and radio and on-line. Instead of doing the normal, everyday, nothing-ness and irrelevant kind of post - I have decided to do something I have never done. Something relevant? No. I will ask the Internet random questions, as if 'it' were alive and in the same room as I (which it is - present, not breathing, though the tower's fan has breathing-like qualities)random questions in hopes of getting precise answers as opposed to random answers. If anything this will entertain me for a few hours and test my all-too-powerful Internet search engine skills I acquired while in college. Let us begin, shall we.

1) How much does a school bus driver in Winnipeg get paid per hour, on average?
2) If I were to build a back yard rink, what is the easiest (and cheapest) way to
apply the blue and red lines, face-off circles and creases?
3) Does Providence, Rhode Island have a sister city? And if so - where, and
why?
4) Who was the Toronto Maple Leafs highest lowest paid player in 1997?
5) Who is the President of Mexico's wife and where was she born?
6) Who invented the TV tray table?
7) What was the best selling book of 1979?
8) Who won the Heisman trophy in 1947 and is he still alive?
9) Is bowling considered a game, sport or past-time?
10) What is the largest bird in Rio de Janeiro?
11) If I were to mix the colours pink, purple and yellow - what colour would I get?
12) If I were in Boston, what part of town would I try to avoid?
13) Who led the majors in hit by the pitch in 1924?
14) Does Tony Danza have a younger brother and is he a registered republican?
15) What is the tallest building in Slovakia?
16) What was Steve Guttenburg's second last movie role?
17) How do you say, "Please, bring me a chair. My feet are tired," in Icelandic?
18) How much was a Big Mac last year in Iceland?
19) What song was #47 on the Billboard Top 100 Chart in March, 1972?
20) Are woman better at men in any sport?

Ok, let's see what we can find out here:

1) $12.84/hour.
2) One crude-but-effective way is to take a spike with a rope attached and,
measuring off the center point of the rink, drive the spike into the ice. Attach
your brush to a pole and fasten the rope to the pole. Using this simple device,
you can paint the circumference of each face-off circle. Once this is done, let
the paint dry.
3) Yes it does. Four in fact. Phnom Penh, Cambodia. Florence, Italy. Riga, Latvia
and Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. The reasons are unclear at this time.
4) Defenceman David Cooper and forward Lonny Bohonos at $279,760 (10 pts combined
in 15 total games)
5) Margarita Zavala de Calderón born Margarita Esther Zavala Gómez del Campo, was
born in Mexico City
6) The inventor of the TV table has been forgotten, however, ads first appeared
on TV for the tray in 1952, a full year before Swanson introduced the TV
dinner in October of 1953.
7) The Matarese Circle by Robert Ludlum of The Bourne Identity, Supremacy and
Ultimatum fame.
8) John Christopher Lujack Jr. Quarterback at Notre Dame. Now 85, he lives in
Bettendorf, Iowa and lends his name to a large car dealership in neighboring
Davenport, Iowa.
9) According to mybowler.com, and New York Daily News Columnist Mike Pettinella
from an academic perspective, bowling fits the definition of a sport. However,
on the flip side, many people still look at bowling as a social activity played
by beer-drinking, chain-smoking men and women who demand easy lane conditions to
post scores above their abilities. Could bowling be both a sport and a game?
10) The flightless rhea (Portuguese: ema), found in the cerrado and Pantanal. It
grows to 1.4m tall and weighs some 30kg.
11) Bluish-Mauve.
12) Roxbury.
13) Hall of Famer Henry "Heinie" Emmett Manush, outfielder for the Detroit Tigers.
He got beaned 16 times.
14) Yes. No word on Matty Danza Jr.'s politcal stance though, but he did appear on
Hannah Montana in 2006 as the character, 'Jimmy.'
15) The Dubnik Transmitter was built in 1961 and is 1,043 feet tall.
16) 2008's children's film, 'Heidi for Paws.' He was the voice of Sebastian, an
apricot poodle who is also the butler for the Sesehound household.
17) "Þóknast , koma með mig a stóll. Minn feet ert þreyttur."
18) 509 Kronur, or $7.44.
19) "I Can See Clearly Now," by Johnny Nash
20) Tough question. We'll delve into that one in the up coming days.

Canada = Gold

As I watch the Olympics (and stall the beginning of a sure to be tough politics paper) that are happening on multiple stations in multiple biases covering multiple events (according to said biases and/or excitement of sport)- I began to think about a few things. If the Canadians are so worried about winning a gold on home turf (by the time of this post they had done so), why don't we (and the IOC and those in real control) just create new winter Olympic events that should all but guarantee the sought after hardware Canada craves (at least on tv) - while surely at a fraction of the cost of the 120 million dollar Own the Podium program. Now, curling is a good start (and women's hockey it seems) but we need more if we're to compete with the powerhouses of the world - not in terms of sportsmanship, politeness and dry humour, but in contention, intimidation and overall medal count. Though most of our country is covered with snow at some point of the year (except Vancouver, and shouldn't it be called the Whistler Olympics?) and, like the stereotype, most of our land is cold - we are not the clear-cut favourites in the Winter Olympics. I understand the smaller population (even though Canada, as this year' host country has some 200 plus participants)than say a U.S or China or 35 other countries in the world) and how many people actually call the 'real' northern Canada home?(I didn't notice too many Eskimos strolling into B.C. place, though there were plenty of Indians dancing around for quite a while and with a lot of enthusiasm - were those actors?), and many of these other poorer European countries literally live and die in cold and ice, so - let's level the playing field a bit and introduce some events whose Canuck-edge transends even home-field advantage. (Sorry Montenegro, Bermuda and Tajikistan, but these new 'Canadian' events may not help hoist your lone competitor to a podium, but keep coming out anyways). How about some brainstorming first. Hmmm, what is Canadian? I mean, what sort of traits or quirks (stereotypes included, for they had to have originated from some where, right?) do we as a people posses that should be incorporated into the new events? Beer. Whiskey. Cheaply made and sold outside of Indian reservation cigarettes. Hockey - I mean real hockey with fighting, hooking, stitches, ties, a smaller ice surface and fanatical hockey fans. And fanatical hockey Dads (and Mom's, I'm sure) The dry, almost not-funny humour thing. Flannel, toques and beards. A confusing political system with too many parties portraying an illusionary democracy in some House on a hill in Ottawa. Grey, dirty and smokey skylines. Being a second-fiddle, heavily-influenced yet inferior border country with a beaver, big nickel and a leaf as its mascots. FYI - A beaver is a damn wood eatin' rodent, Sudbury is no longer a mining town and a leaf is a leaf. It falls off a tree and dies. However, at least we don't have Al Michaels, Bob Costas, bad teeth, communism (but, is it worse?) a suffocating population, non-universal health-care, completely depleted resources, gun control issues (outside of T.O), civil wars, genocides and nukes (or do we?) Event # 1 - The competitor, while on skates and getting strip searched by a customs agent, will attempt to get drunk as fast as possible off beer or whiskey while watching Hockey Night in Canada with their friends. 50 % of the score goes towards level of intoxication and belligerence. 25 % to your skating ability and 25 % if a Canadian hockey team wins or 12.5 if they go to over-time. The hassle at the border is just a nuisance and your friends are there to mix your drinks. Event # 2 - While canoeing drunk on a lake, the first person to make their rival laugh mockingly (a la House of Commons) with a toque/beaver/or beer related joke wins. And gets to speak loudly and obnoxiously over those from across the room. Event # 3 - A Canadian-content only trivia contest, hosted by Alex Trebek and held around a blazing camp fire in the woods - while drinking. Event # 4 - An all-out, hands-on, females-included yellow snow competition. 25% for creativity, 25 % for hue of yellow, and 50 % for longest duration of participation. Extra marks gained for most Canadian content peed (eg. Captain Harry Colebourn's pet black bear Winnie, a beaver or a leaf) and if you have a beard and/or hairy legs. Event # 5 - While mining, fishing, logging, snow-shoeing, camping, or whistling the Hockey Night in Canada theme song, the competitor must complain about the government, but do nothing about it - except get more drunk, watch more hockey and consume more American and Japanese made products. Whoever complains and gets most drunk - wins the gold. If we implement these new events - along with a few others: ie., Extreme and Naked Beer Pong, Name that Original 6 Team, First to Separate Wins (or loses?), we'll be well on our way to fortifying our Olympic domination - or as laughing stock of the world, which, after that opening ceremony thing (some parts were okay) that reeked of incompetent, nice yet aloof Canadian ways and shoddy technology - we may already be. But that's okay, because this is Canada and we are nice people with much land.

I'M REALLY INTO PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY APPLES

Snow. There's nothing quite like it. Sleet sucks. Hail hurts. And rain is a wetter, messier, just plain more awful version with not much upside. Okay, it helps things to grow and all that, and sure it smells refreshing after a summer sprinkle, but when the rain is gone what does leave? Puddles? Worms? Mudslides? Flooded basements? Dripping eavestroughs? Soaked Pants. Nothing we want to be a part of, I assure you. Now snow, planet earth's whitest and most pleasant blanket, not only looks pretty from a far and up close, tastes great when falling into our mouths and is much more fun than rain (ever tried snowboarding during a thunderstorm, or building a rain man?) but snow, covers up society's filth, with a beautiful coating of puffy happiness. When snow melts, so does the tidy mystique it fell with. What emerges from under the snow is what was always there, but what did not have to be seen while the grounds' water-gate lay asleep - as still as an embattled president. Candy wrappers, single shoes, torn open and spilled trash and the all too popular and littered cigarette butt. No one wants to see what's really happening - in office - and on the ground, so let's keep her covered. I have to go. Dragon's Den is on. You ever watch that show? It's the only recent program (on the CBC nonetheless) besides Leafs games that I've actually looked up prior to watching to see when it's on. Some people are plain wacko nut-bags with no brains and too much money invested into nonsense. While others have decent ideas with a poor evaluation. Then there are those with the goods - and that's when the dragon's swoop in, breathing fire with nostrils smoking, and takeover 95% of their company, making the inventors their employees.

Hopefully I'm wrong, but if not - what time frame are we talking here?

Just as Phil Wilson was telling me this past weekend that Toronto has only received one snow fall this year, and the little white poop we got 'round these parts that same past weekend only hit us - and not the northern metropolis, because he only ran into snow in Comber while on his way west down the 401 - we get one here, in Windsor and are expecting close to a foot - while TO is set to receive a whopping 1-3 cm over the next few days. Toronto gets the poo, Windsor gets dumped on. I'm no meteorologist, I don't even play one on local tv, but I've noticed some weird weather patterns lately over the last decade - so what's the dealio Chuck Gadica? Give me a green screen I can believe in, a cloud covered map I can read. Who's this Doppler guy anyways? I know it must be hard to predict what wind and rain will do (I'd never try it) and you do get some things right, but...weather is going to happen regardless...so, what's the point...yet a warning is sometimes beneficial...I see...Let's just say I'm no Alfred Wegener or Wilson "Snowflake" Bentley (famous meteorologists), but... I can tell when there's snow on the ground. If it's raining everything gets wet. And if it's cold out I wear a toque. If I paid attention to and trusted the the forecast, I'd never leave my house. What? Ever since Al Gore, our weather here in the world has been flip-flopping mad. Yes, the caps are melting, but I don't think even the great ex-vice president to Bill Clinton turned smartest man in the world could have predicted such violent scenes. And I'm not just talking about the weather. But for now, we will. The weather, that is. Though the secretive yet most obvious cause to these changes in everything may be a mystery, it is also solvable. Excuse me? Is the, what we'll call - non-cause, just time moving along, and what we're witnessing nothing other than normal history of all that is? Mother Earth's natural progression as she chugs along in an unknown to man but precise cycle against time. And against us. And pollution. And baby seal hunts. And the Chinese population. And the Internet. And democracy. And crime. And terrorists. And methanol. And...everyone and everything inhabiting Earth because we all contribute, in some way (no matter how green you think you are) to the destruction of the world as we know it. Unless you live in a bubble on another planet in a box under the ground - then you have donated to the 'Kill Earth' fund. It's only natural, like a cycle. A wash cycle. If one keeps washing their clothes, over and over, then eventually they will fade, lose their appeal and comfort then eventually fall to pieces before turning to dust. Yes, of course. As Billy Joe Armstrong from Green Day would ask, if he were Planet Earth's personal advisor, Mother Nature- "Do you know your enemy? Do you know your enemy? Well, gotta know the enemy. Wah-hey!" Yes. Planet Earth does and so does the American Idiot - I mean Mother Nature. She does. Humans. Her non-related yet abusive step-children - and everything they create - and even things they don't. Obviously they're not related, for they are her stepchildren. Huh? Now, I'm no biologist or expert on much of anything let alone the environment, or Planet Earth's social life, or where the "Kill Earth" funds really go, but something is coming - is it not? How many earthquakes, typhoons, bad economies, hurricanes, bombs, tsunamis, republicans, baby-danglings, shark attacks, anthrax, Nancy Grace's, be-headings, reality stars, nukes, war, plane crashes, and North Korea's can one civilization endure? And I'm not talking about the names of professional sports teams nor of WWF monikers. No, I'm talking disaster. Natural or non. Or a mean combo of the two.

GARBEAU DE CHANGE (garbage o' change)

Big day today. Big f'n day. After an already big day (Da Bowl)yesterday. Today, the day I am referring to now, I tossed out my old, worn down and gross Adidas shell toe sneakers. Right into the garbage bag. I thought twice about it, but not three times. See ya. Now, I know what you're thinking: “Big f'n dealio. People throw out old shoes all the time when they get new ones.” True. But I don't. Throw them out or get new ones. No, I wear shoes down to the ground – literally, my socked feet sometimes scrape against the earth through the gaping holes on the sides. And if my sock has a hole (which is very possible) we're dealing with some serious skin on cement rubbage. If you smell something resembling, (but not really at all) a burnt rubber skunk with a severe foot odour problem – then I might be in the vicinity. And like a real live black and white stinker, as long as me and my kicks are downwind, our pleasantly foul spray can and will be smelled, all intrusive and vile like from up to a mile away or more. There is no stopping stanky ass foot odour when it escapes its leather confines into the openness of fresh air. It ferociously envelopes normal, nice smelling molecules rendering them useless to its toxic powers. Especially if the shoe the foot and sock are in is just as raunchy – the shoe itself may even be the original cause of the fungus. Hmmm. Or at least a tremendous accelerator or maintainer of foot-related fumes. I usually have a rotation between three shoes: #1 - the go to all the time, easy slip on and off shoes in question. #2 - the equally worn, but not as destroyed, comfortable New Balances used for any and all activities. #3 - the least used but still old and cleanest 'going out' skater shoes. The thing is I threw out my current, everyday for everything shoes with a 'tude without having a new, fresh pair waiting on the bench. No, I am switching the old dirty shell toes for even older shoes – older and wiser just not as gross and beat up. Don't get me wrong, the ten year old purple retro runners and $18 (B and I got the same shoes and we should have bought more) cream-coloured skate board shoes I call replacements are anything but to most, however – at least the sole is still attached to the rest of the shoe unlike the bad boys I just tossed. And you can't see my bare foot unless I take them and my socks off. Yes, perhaps it's because of the spring-like essence of the day, but it seems like a good time for letting go and starting anew, so – what else could be thrown into the garbage bag 'o change? Hmmm. A torn cardboard box full of useless wires, adapters and broken head phones? Yup. Gone. Or how about every piece of literature received (letters, handouts, OSAP bullshit) and every note taken from the last three years during my time in University? How about all of Phillip Warren's mail that I've accumulated over the last year and odd months that I've meant to bring to the Post Office but have only one time? (It's all stuff he probably would have tossed himself anyways) “If you keep it, he will come." Nope. That only works in baseball movies and maybe Mr. Warren isn't the kind of guy I want knocking on my door demanding his two year old mail. He probably doesn't even look like Ray Liotta. Or how about my own mail I've also never opened or brought anywhere accept inside my house and into a drawer? It's all gone. Into the bag. Shit, scum and piss build-up on the back of the toilet bowl? (So that's what that brush beside the toilet is for) Bye-bye. Flushed down the john into hell. Sayonara stupid souvenirs a la useless, corner accumulating mementos - you're time consuming and creating dead space in my head and house is up. Hoarding is the new 'it' problem, like drunk driving. Or is it the new drastic weight fluctuation scandal captured on the latest sleazy tabloid? Either way it's all the rage now in Hollywood (even Lindsanity is doing it - hoarding and fluctuating that is, as well as whoring and flagellating), but it's not something I want to be associated with anymore. Even though I never really was. I do not strive to be on any show ever that is broadcast on A&E. Ever. Though, the station made famous for murder docs and sneaky interventions is probably my best and quickest bet to getting famous (I mean infamous) nowadays, since Much Music and TSN are more than likely out of the question - unless they're looking for an unknown, obscure and over-age guru or fact-checker for OTR's Michael Lansberg and his quirky and sometime humiliating personal questions. "So, Alexei [Kovalev], I heard you're an accomplished saxophonist." "Uhhh. Yes." "Well, I have one right here, maybe you could play us out." "Oh Shit." From now on I will keep only what I need: A decent bed and its accessories, clothes that fit comfortably (this includes socks and underwear), one television of any size, make or model, three pairs of shoes, music equipment, electric clippers for face, head and neck, a bike and/or car for transportation, moving of objects and aimless cruising, books I would like to read, or have read and want to suggest to friends and family, a computer of some sort because the world operates on-line, and a level and sensible head about life because it's a jungle out there.

HELLO? ANYBODY THERE? IT'S ME...

I think I'm just going to shut her down for a while. Another female allegorical metaphorical thing I understand, but what are you gonna do these days? I mean her as in the cell phone. Or the portable and lightweight but always hungry and aggressive debt monster, as I like to call her. Just kidding. A phone is definitely an 'it' sent from the depths of hells hottest collections agency. Not a splendid sky or waning moon like she sometimes is. Anyhow, my (and Katie's) plans are to leave the country and head far east (ethnocentrically speaking) in a few more months so, do I really need to be attached by the pocket to the rest of civilization (really only like 5 people) for my remaining time here in North America? No, is the answer to the question I just asked myself. Instead of calling, Ryan can just step over the two and a half foot railing and walk right in. Katie can pull up and knock.. I'll be home. Jeff already just shows up and walks in. Shoot me a message via the Internet if you so desire - it's free (with an already paid for connection) and I always check her - my hotmail that is, just don't try and call me. What important messages will I miss anyways? RBC's finest heckler, seducing me with another unneeded yet seemingly ultra-necessary bullshit insurance/coverage or made up on-line banking feature I definitely don't need? No thanks. If you're talking too fast and smoothly - I will never listen to you. And if you're from India, I will barely be able to understand you. And if your calling from a 1-8 anything number I will usually not pick up until you call so many times I am forced to out of exasperation. Will I really miss the unsolicited by me solicitors with too much time on their hands and not enough numbers other than my own? Yeah, maybe we'll stay in touch. Rogers won't be calling me every hour, on the freakin' hour with their bulletin news update, and annoying as hell, barely audible and even less understandable warnings to pay my two week late bill. I understand completely that you're trying to pay your own bills and if I dislike you this much, I can only imagine how much you dislike yourself but...don't you want me to be late with my payment, so as to up the interest rates and therefore end up paying way more than if I had paid on time? I always pay eventually, in full and I know you have a job to do Mr. or Mrs. or Miss Foreign Phone Solicitor, but in the words of a Keyshawn Johnson or Mike Ditka - 'C'mom Man!' Nobody ever calls me to thank me for paying on time and in full or to help me with possibly lowering my already outrageously high cell phone bill. Nope, I always seem to miss those calls. Maybe they get dropped. For some reason, our rates and charges and BS levels in this area of ultra-low employment rates and even lower moral - are some of the highest in the world. It doesn't surprise me. Nothing does anymore. My former high school's former priest charged with molestation in Haiti? Nope. I could tell way back then that he was odd and a bit too 'cool' for school. A double murder in Leamington? Not at all. Well that did kind of shock me a bit. On Bennie no less. Detroit's mayor was a money stealing, text sexing degenerate cheat? The dude looked, spoke and acted like a Devil Disciple from the Black Mafia Family, while his family was spending the city's money on booze, drugs and strippers. Windsor collapsing into the River after yet another tired and failed attempt to dig itself out of it's recessive hole? I can't get out of this city quick enough. Who the hell do I even call anyways? Katie? My Mom. The Ice Park to check for pick-up hockey times? I never make long-distance calls and the people I call the most live in the same building as me or are on my 'Fav Five,' which probably costs more per minute than all my other 'Non Five' calls combined. WTF CPW? (cell phone world) Sure, go ahead and record our conversation, I'm sure it will help you make more people's lives miserable in the future. Do you want to know what you should change for 'quality' purposes? How about the 'quality' of my life that is lacking severely economically (partly b/c I'm jobless) because of my obscenely over-priced cell phone bills. I know what you're probably thinking - "Nobody forced you to get yourself into a contractual agreement with a money hungry tele-communications corporation." True. Unless you study the situation using your 'sociological imagination,' that is. Plus, that year or months or whatever she was, when I was phone, friend and job-less on Janette - were some of the loneliest and most boring days of my life. Just check out the lyrics to "Stop on By," (www.myspace.com/threatlevelmidnightx) - and you'll more clearly understand. Anyways, I should be able to get by without a phone, I did it for quite a while over there on Janette - but I didn't really have many visitors or fun since my friends lived in Kingsville, had to email me to make contact, and walking to a pay phone in the winter time hoping that who you're calling will pick up is a bit risky, time consuming and cold. Not to mention, Janette isn't a street you just want to pull up to a house on in the middle of the night unless you know that person is home - and expecting you. I could get back into using smoke signals and the Morse code, but I wasn't really into those to begin with. And tin cans and string aren't as reliable as they sound.

SOMETIMES HISTORY JUST FINDS YOU, LIKE A FLAME LICKS FOR OXYGEN

With the O '10 Olympic games only a few days (10 or so, maybe less or a few more) away from dramatically and patriotically coming to a start, I thought it only sensible and timely to speak of it. The Games that is. And the lit torch itself to be even more specific. I don't know if it's the competition rising from the frigidness of the cold still February nights, or the fact that Dion Phaneuf recently traded the bright red of the Calgary Flames (home of the last Can. Olympics) for the blue and white of the Leafs. I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that I'm actually playing ice hockey again after a ten year hiatus - whatever it is, I am looking forward to the games (esp. hockey, crazy skiing, some figure/speed skating and maybe even some crazier luge or the bobsled). Maybe I'm sick of watching nothingness and the pitiful Leafs on the tube. Is it because my bro Michael lives in the Vancouver area and maybe I'll see him on television? Hey look! A bright yellow patterned Hawaiian printed pair of shorts and even wackier hand made personally designed pair of shoes just shot past my screen. Was he drinking a Slushy? Miko? Who knows. Am I a believer? Maybe. In the flame that is. I have to be. And seeing my brother on television first before I see him next time in person is a belief I hold. Because, not only does Mike live far away, but the last time the Winter Games were held in Canada (Calgary '88) I saw the flame. Up close and personal, Sherk T. Complex parking lot, Leamington, Ont., Canada. Well, close enough to see the fire burning bright and symbolically in the night with my own two eyes and not just on the CBC or from the excitable view of a Cogeco's Dominic Pappa. And I saw it this time around as well. In Windsor, around nine-ish on a Wednesday, cruising down Campbell. I forgot to mention my encounter with this portion of the leg in earlier blog type like blog things, but like I said earlier in this here blog type like blog thing, with the culmination of the big Flame-Leafs trade, my personal hockey playing and 11 days (or so) left til the games - I felt that today was the perfect day to believe. So do tell your story of the Flame. Not the ex-flame going to Toronto but the real Flame coming from Toronto. To and through Windsor, surprisingly down my street (though I have a few theories as to why I will share later) Yes. Not only did I view the running of the torch this year and that one some 22 years ago, but I witnessed history, both times - by accident. Of course, the first time I realize that I personally, as a kid probably really wanted to see the jogging sweat pant party that is the torch run firsthand. A lot of my friends were probably going. (Sorry, but my pre-high school memories are starting to fade - hence, the blog type blog like thing for recording purposes) I was probably 7 going on 8, way into the Olympics (I had Panini-style pictures of Canadian Olympic athletes up on my bedroom wall and probably stickers on my bedposts) - and, most importantly in this situation, had parents who could drive. And who wanted to see the festivities as much or as more as I. That's the thing. As a fifth grader, without a license or much experience in making grown-up decisions or driving, I really couldn't get to that parking lot on Sherk Street at 8 pm in Leamington by myself. It was probably a school night as well. In the middle of winter. So, like most determined and excited kids, I (and the rest of my sibs) relied on our parents to get us there. 12 K, give or take a click, due east on Highway 18. If you pass the park you've gone too far. When looked at in that light, both viewings of earlier said stick of fire came on a whim, a reliance on fate and the hands of time to get me to the desired spot of viewing. And the Aerostar. This time however, in 2010 I merely walked outside, haphazardly and slowly, mostly out of mild but building curiousity into the party-line of madness and fun that is the Vancouver Olympic Games Torch Relay Run. I believe it to be the longest non-stop torch run in the history of the games. Olympics and all. Tony, Mike and I were happily enjoying ourselves, drinking dark beer and chatting of the sorts of things we chat about when drinking dark beer in a lowly lit apartment on a Wednesday evening: the ups and downs of the music business, Jay Z, used guitars and or/recording equipment, Toronto, L.A., the biz, Chatham's own Southpaw, you know. When all of a sudden. "Hey, I think somethings going on out there," said Tony as he walked towards the window, pointing at the flashing lights and sounds of people scurrying and talking out front my west facing apartment on Campbell St., situated about half way in between Wyandotte and University Ave. Opening the door and walking outside onto the front porch, we realized that yes, something was going on out here. How we could have missed the situation developing, the real realization. A bunch of cars and people were scattered up and down the street, filling in driveways and gaps along the sidewalk, clearly anticipating something coming from the south, down Campbell, heading towards us and the river. At first, all we could see were lights and sounds and sirens and what looked like a cavalcade of marked and unmarked police cruisers, fire trucks, some random tractor-trailers, a pile of paddy-wagon's, buses full of waving strangers in white, multiple ambulances, you name it - if there's an emergency for it, the response vehicle was slowly crawling down my street, chaperoning what we believed was the Pope at first or maybe Jean Chretien, the Spitfires or Windsor's favourite alt-rock group, Ashes of Soma. Nope. It was the The Flame. A beacon of hope, representing unity and equality in sport for a world overrun with not enough hope for all. A beacon of hope not cherries. Crime, arson and any injury whatsoever would have to wait to commence until the flame shot through Windsor's finest streets. "The flames coming," I heard someone whisper, thinking that if they spoke too loud the parade might turn around, jump on the bypass and head west towards Amherstburg, and a nicer looking crowd. No offense West Windsor, but... We went with our gut, with what that guy whispered and the fact that the real party was now approaching, satisfying our inquiries. "I think it's the flame dudes," either me, Mike or Tony said, still in disbelief at what we had stumbled upon. In between and staggered amongst the cops, motorcycles, strangers in white jump suits, and enforcers of the flame, were converted flat-bed, pump you up and portable party trucks, complete with cranking dance tunes, and good looking, high energy, mike-bearing torch-bunnies (male & female) - with a serious but fun question: "Are you ready for the flame?!!" A portable pep rally with intent to excite a country. And they were really excited. As luck would have it, the biggest and most aggressive of the flat-bed bunny freaks stopped almost directly in front of our apartment building. By that time, Mike had decided to bbq some winter dogs, Tony had cracked another Guinesss and I had grabbed my camera, but didn't have the common sense to erase the older files on it, hence giving me more space - because I wanted a video or at least a picture of the unfolding madness and jubilee. I might be the only person in the history of Canada's Olympic Torch Run to see the flame twice - accidentally, and I needed evidence. Startled by the commotion and semi-intrusive questions hurled from the party-time dance floor on the street, and still trying to figure out why I had no file space (Damn Guinness, got me again) - I laughed awkwardly, but smiled happily at the spectacle of the parka donning dancing cheerleaders on the semi-stage who seemed now to be glaring at me and my shyness. The procession proceeded on. North, towards Detroit, but it probably turned before it went in the river. I ran back inside, intent on emptying my files onto my computer, making room for The Flame. But I couldn't find the gosh dang device needed to transfer said old files. "Hurry up dude, you're gonna miss the flame," said either Tony or Mike. Or maybe the whisperer from the side of the road. It was probably Tony, because Mike was busy cooking dogs in December. Shit. No pics of the flame. No evidence of either encounter, but I know they happened, because I decided to take a mental snapshot, just like Jim and Pam did on that lame episode of The Office (mind you, I enjoy The Office, though sometimes not the gooey-ness of the Jam. The Pim?). Anyways, yes... behold the Olympic Flame! Tony or Mike or that guy on the street was right. IT was here. Belief was and is possible. And it arrived, though briefly in my life via the legs of a jogging white Windsorite. Thirtiesh, sporing a goatee, ultra white toque, jump suit and a serious perma-smile, this no-name torch bearer sure believed. The flame was bigger than I remember (I was closer in proximity than when I was a kid and, well I was a kid back then in '88) and it's power and prestige could be heard and felt as the flames licked and cut through the brisk night air. Destination: Vancouver. Current Location: Campbell St. In between Wyandotte and University. As the bearded bearer and his flickering flame were passing by my house, a passerby running sort of zig-zaggedly along side the bearer, ran up to him and asked him a question. "Aren't you getting tired?" The man in white, in all his glory, proudly, quickly and confidently replied: "I could do this all night. I could do this all night." With that the flame was gone, out of my life again until the next time I stumble across it's vibrant and inspirational path it's way to the games. PS. I think they chose Campbell because it's a fairly smooth surface, ideal for jogging and portable flat-bed parties. The street on which I live on is conveniently linked to Windsor's major roads: Riverside, Tecumseh and EC Row, in case for some weird reason The Flame needed to get across town in a hurry. Also, no disrespect to Campbell, but it isn't the best street in town and was perhaps used so the fuzz could keep an eye out for thievery and thuggery - since every cop in Windsor, maybe even Essex County was a float in The Flame Parade. Any ideas of your own, my faithful and ever participating readers of this blog type blog like thing.